


The 14th

by drvology



Category: Eyewitness (US TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 14:06:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9750779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drvology/pseuds/drvology
Summary: Not quite so easy as hearts and flowers.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cherie_morte](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherie_morte/gifts), [rivers_bend](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivers_bend/gifts).



> Valentine's Day prompts for cherie_morte and rivers_bend. In the same 'universe' as my other two Eyewitness fics, grouped together with the 'at the falls of the aniene river' collections link.

( 13 )

"Stop fidgeting."

Lukas curls his hand into a fist and skids it off the table. "Sorry."

"It's just you're making me nervous." Bo shakes his head and stabs at the microwaved dinner they're having. "Am I keeping you?"

"No." Lukas' gaze flits around the room and eventually lands outside, nearabouts where his bike is parked.

"Hm." Bo is unconvinced. He wads his napkin and throws it on the congealed, unappetizing food. "Tell you what, let's go get a decent dinner and we can talk about it. Or go over wherever's on your mind."

 "Go? I don't…" Lukas licks his lips and nods. "Actually can we go to the store? Like, over to the Galleria?"

"All the way in Poughkeepsie?" Bo hears his voice go up and sighs. It's not like he minds, he's just surprised.

Lukas' hopeful smile cracks. "We don't have to. I just was, well. Never mind."

Bo decides to say what he was thinking. "I don't mind, son, I'm surprised is all. That's a bit of a drive, plus dinner and then shopping, and that whole drive back. You haven't wanted to spend that much time with me in a while." He tries his own smile and it fits, encourages Lukas' to try again.

"Yeah, well." Lukas shrugs and rubs his hands on his jeans. "It'd be nice. Dinner sounds good—we can go to that Italian place on the way. And I kinda need…"

Bo waits and tries not to prompt. Then he gets to thinking, and his smile tightens with chagrin, before it widens and he cracks a laugh.

"Think Philip is more of a bear-and-chocolates or roses-and-diamonds kind of guy?"

Lukas blushes to stain his scalp and stammers a mite. Bo thinks, _score one for the old man_.

"Bear, maybe?" Lukas' blush deepens but his leg bobs, a sure sign he's excited. "So then we can? Can we, please?"

Lukas' look is incredulous and embarrassed and, yes, hopeful again, probably desperate for advice but having no idea where to go with this. Bo sure as hell doesn't know, but he's not slamming doors closed anymore. He gave the physical act up years ago when he figured out it scared little Lukas half to death—without his meaning to, but after she'd gone he didn't always know what he was about, what he was doing, and what that did to both of them—and was working now to keep them open in other ways between them.

"Yeah, yeah. Take these plates to the kitchen and then get ready. Be back down here in ten."

"Yes sir!" Lukas beams and springs from the table.

Bo goes a bit slower.

Lukas thunders back downstairs and is getting into the car seven minutes later. Bo's the one who isn't quite ready. He gets a fifty out of the locked drawer in his study he's pretty sure Lukas knows nothing about, finds his wallet and keys, and saunters outside. Lukas is fit to be tied and Bo makes certain to be methodical and slow-going in getting them going.

He's quiet on the drive even through telling himself to just say something. But he lets Lukas pick the music, and nods as Lukas rambles stuff about school and riding, notices Lukas still leaves the details about Philip as a big blank.

Dinner is likewise quiet, but he does his best, asking openings for Lukas to tell him just a bit more about Philip. His stomach churns at first—nerves and the continuing battle to accept, and not fear for Lukas' future as this, so outside of everything he's ever known—but Lukas' bright-eyed laughter and shy reveal of happiness makes him glad he asked.

"How was school today?" he asks in follow and immediately regrets as Lukas' eyes dim.

School hasn't been easy since everything that happened. Since Lukas no longer hid his relationship with Philip. Bo doesn't know how to help that—there's no changing some people and that he does know all too painfully, bone-deep. Riding is different too, sponsors who already were on board keeping Lukas but no new ones appearing, and it worries them both.

Neither show or say the worry, of course. But it's there. Bo realizes—knows in his heart which is a place he ignores most of the time—more than school and sponsorships have changed.

Lukas probably won't find staying local tenable, reliable. Won't stay even if he doesn't go too far, and if he goes Bo expects he'll take Philip with him. Lukas leaving makes sense and he always expected it, as a parent should, but going like this scares Bo more than anything else has.

Because leaving like that, well. Bo's not sure Lukas would have reason to return.

When they get to the mall he gets out the fifty.

"Here." Bo glances around. "We can meet back here in an hour. I have some shopping to do myself."

"Whoa, Dad. I have my allowance, I didn't mean…"

"I know. So I'm offering. Now take it and get going. You're down to fifty-eight minutes."

"Awesome. Thanks!" Lukas turns the bill over in his hands and then carefully folds it, tucks it in his front pocket. "Here in an hour, got it." Then he's off, threading through the crowd, seeming to have a direction already in mind.

Bo has none. He browses the book store and then gets some frozen yogurt. He walks the upper level and watches boyfriends and husbands shopping for tomorrow. He has nothing to buy, no reason. He tosses the empty yogurt cup and looks around at the red, pink, and purple surrounding him, and it just makes him tired. He finds a seat where he said for Lukas to meet, and a few minutes after that time passes, Lukas shows, clutching several bags and an unsure expression.

"Ready?" Bo stands and Lukas follows him to the car. "Find anything good?"

"I hope so. I don't know. I think I'm bad at this." Lukas stuffs the bags on the floor of the backseat and gets in, hands Bo some bills. "Thanks again, Dad."

"Just keep it—you boys might want an ice cream or something."

 _Or something_ he thinks with a twinge and a laugh.

"I'm sure you're fine and what you got is fine." Bo finds his way out of the parking lot and back on the main road. It's easier to talk while driving, not facing each other, and in the dark since evening fell. "They do say it's the thought that counts."

"I guess. I bought enough to show how much I think of him. I think." Lukas drums his legs and sighs. "I probably shouldn't give him any of it."

"Don't get too far in your head about it." Bo winces. It's bad advice after all that happened. He's working on not alienating Lukas or shutting down honesty, even inadvertently. "What I mean is give it, and let Philip decide. I'm sure he'll be thrilled."

Lukas sighs again and Bo wishes he wasn't the one who had to do this. He'd be shit at it no matter who Lukas was dating but he's worse because he has nothing to go on here.

"The first Christmas after your mother and I were married, I got her a set of real nice pots and pans." Bo squeezes the steering wheel at the memory. That they're still in the house, strong and sturdy, never used. "The green aluminum Clover ones—you know?"

"You did?"

"I did."

"Did she like them? Are you saying I should have gotten like, pans or something?"

Bo laughs. "Lord no. She told me if I gave her anything that practical the next year she'd divorce me."

"Is this supposed to be making me feel better?"

"She used them every day. And she did eventually forgive me—Christmas Eve under twinkly strings of lights is pretty romantic."

"Ugh, no. Nope. Don't wanna know."

"All I'm saying is you did your best and Philip will appreciate it." Bo shrugs and keeps his amusement in. He's glad to see the turnoff to Tivoli. "Or he'll get mad and leave you next Valentine's if you don't do better."

He winces at Lukas' silence and thinks it was too far. But then Lukas laughs too and whaps Bo's arm.

It's the best Bo has felt in a while.

"What did you get the next year? Next Christmas."

Bo still has it in his top dresser drawer. "A sapphire necklace I couldn't afford."

Lukas whispers a low _sweet_ and Bo can only agree. 

He drives to Philip's place without asking. There's a bag in the car—he made Lukas do that as part of this morning's chores—and it's later than he expected to get Lukas here for the weekend.

"You boys have a good time," he finally says after they've sat in the car several minutes. The porch light is on and he can see a silhouette in the house, watching.

"This was really cool of you, Dad. I looked around here but there just wasn't anything to get and I'm just… I'm glad you could take me." Lukas rummages around in the back for everything, because hauling it all awkwardly to the front is somehow easier than just getting out. "Would."

Bo barely catches that last bit and it pulls him up sharp. They're doing better. He's doing better. But there'll always be a long way to go.

"I was glad to, and I mean that." He almost swallows the rest but forces it out. "When I found out how much you lied—the kinds of lies you told and the lengths—" he feels Lukas tense up and he turns, grips Lukas's shoulder. "Hold on now, nothing bad. I'm telling you that was a wake-up call to me. That you were so afraid you felt you had to lie. Not of the shooter, not of seeing that terrible crime, but of people finding out. Of _me_."

He has to stop and clear his throat but he massages Lukas' shoulder.

"Anyway. No father wants that for their son, even one as bad at saying such as me."

Lukas laughs, short and breathy, and the light spilling from the porch catches his smile. "You gonna get me on Sunday or should I ask for a ride?"

"Just… let them get you to school on Monday. Then come straight home after that." Bo shouldn't relax his rules like that but damn, what does it really matter, and Gabe won't find it an imposition.

That and he won't have to face Helen taking in the change of plans.

"Really?" Lukas' watery smile grows into a grin. "Okay! I will. Have a good weekend."

Lukas is always a little worried at this point, Bo's figured that out, leaving him to his own devices for several days. But one day soon Lukas will pick up and go start a life somewhere, leave him for good and like should be, and it doesn't have to be for always.

He watches Lukas run to the house, bags flopping everywhere, and the screen door opens for him with Philip just inside. Philip braves waving, and Bo waves back although he probably can't be seen. He goes before it gets odd for him to keep sitting here, and when he gets out at home, there's a small, shiny red bag on the passenger seat.

"Damnit, Lukas," he huffs.

But the tag reads _Dad_. Inside is a square box, and in that is a pocket watch with an enamel picture of two standing bucks on the back. Eight pointers.

Bo wells up—grunts and feels mushy and stupid—and grips the watch so hard it pinches his fingers. The card is signed simply _Lukas_.

He goes inside and skips the beers he intended to have, to forget, and gets out one of those green pans and does his best to remember the recipe for homemade cocoa. He drinks it on the porch, slow sips, too cold to be out here with the bite in the wind. But they always went out stargazing, and she loved every minute, hung on his every word pointing at constellations and how to navigate by them.

The pocket watch is a good fit to his pocket and the bulk of it there a comfort.

It's the best he's felt in years.

( 14 )

Lukas is about to come out of his skin.

He was super no-big about the bundle of packages, more or less hiding them under his bag dumped in Philip's room. Then he got smooth and dragged Philip to him for a kiss—distraction and need—and after that he fought impatience to just give it all immediately rather than wait.

They slept in longer than he wanted, only because he wants every possible minute with Philip he can get. But he supposes being tangled together in bed is a great use of some of those minutes, so okay. He can deal.

Breakfast is no longer awkward. Gabe makes pancakes and Philip baked cinnamon rolls, and Helen works on a casefile while Lukas gets nowhere on the newspaper crossword puzzle. They eat and he sits almost in Philip's lap and the cinnamon rolls are delicious. When he takes a fourth Philip grins at him, that pleased satisfied grin, and Lukas' day is pretty much already made.

They go for a walk, ramble around, make out at The Tree. Talk about everything and nothing. Lukas mentions going shopping with his dad, how it was nice not weird, and Philip looks happier about that than his hardcore cinnamon roll appreciation.

The hours are endless but Philip doesn't seem to notice or mind. Gabe cooks steaks for lunch, and Lukas thinks it's a little odd to have steaks for lunch but same time, hey, steaks. Philip sits across from him and they play footsie, then do the dishes, and he flings water and soap suds at Philip.

Then Helen pushes them out, says get going, she and Gabe are ready to have the house to themselves. Lukas has no idea what that means but it seems kinda promising.

Philip does. Leads them upstairs, suddenly giving off nervous vibes and chewing on his lip, so Lukas realizes something's up. Philip gets stuff in a hurry from a dresser drawer, refills the fountain, and then tells him get his stuff, hurry.

"Wait!"

Footsteps stomp back into the room and Philip stands, adorably, hands on hips.

"Here." Lukas reaches into one of the shopping bags and pulls out a small box.

Philip's eyebrows furrow together and he weighs the box in his hand. He's already smiling as he opens it, doesn't even know what's inside, and peels the tissue paper back carefully, carefully. His low gasp and lip-lick tells Lukas everything.

"It's for the fountain. I thought, you know, add it in with the rocks." Lukas shifts in place. He wants to move in close and help unwrap the box, like a kid at someone else's birthday party, but he wants to stick in place and just watch.

He goes with just watch.

Philip scoots some of the rocks in the fountain around and then sets the miniature Japanese temple on a flat one overlooking the upper fall. He puts the tiny glass toadstools—three, red, yellow, blue, glued to a pretty piece of bark—next to the frogs. The box rattles when Philip goes to set it down and he peeks inside, quick-grins at Lukas, puts the dumb miniature dirt bike right in the water of the bottom tier.

"This is all so great. Thank you." Philip snags the front of Lukas' shirt and tugs, kisses him soundly but all too brief. "Where'd you find all that? It's so perfect."

It took him five stores and agonizing over miniatures in curio cabinets—then breathless last minutes he had in a toy store asking the clerk for help—but he wants to be cool.

"Oh, you know," Lukas manages mysterious and light, and Philip jabs him. He laughs, evades, jabs Philip back and darts into the hall. He runs downstairs and through the kitchen, out onto the porch, but has to wait. Doesn't know where they're supposed to be going.

Those presents went over awesomely, but they were the ones he was most confident about.

"Not far," Philip says behind him, reading his thoughts, and takes his free hand.

They stop at the barn—not far at all—and Lukas squints as his eyes adjust. Then it's his turn to gasp.

The outdoor but real table and chairs are in here, unlit candles and a big basket, and back in the hay there's a big lump of what he thinks are blankets. Even though it's February it's not cold in here—the kerosene heater's been running, he can smell it—and the filtered light is soft and the darkness closes around them. Keeps their secrets.

"Whoaaaa," he draws out, spinning in a circle.

Philip takes his bag but he holds onto the presents. He sets them on the table and Philip tosses their gear into the blanket nest, and then comes and stands in front of him, shy and crazy gorgeous and hopeful.

Lukas can't stand it—a common thing—gathers Philip in and kisses him, kisses him, kisses him. He has to suck in air when they finally part and Philip snickers about it. Lukas doesn't care. Kisses Philip again.

"Happy Valentine's." Philip opens his arms to encompass the barn. There's a tiny bit of uncertainty lurking, and Lukas can't stand that, either.

"It's so good, babe. God, this is amazing. Awesome. Awesome amazing." He pulls Philip in again, rests his head on Philip's shoulder, rocks them side to side.

His presents seem even worse in comparison to this. Not romantic. Not personal. Not thoughtful and creative and the time it took to do this.

Lukas hesitates then sits at the table. It seems easier to sit. "Open them."

Philip lights the candles first. They're battery powered but flicker nicely and cast a gentle glow.

"Which one?"

"I don't know—any. All." Lukas tucks his hands under his thighs and then thinks better, gets out his phone, takes pictures of Philip unwrapping everything.

He captures Philip's hilarious n'awww-eyeroll at the so soft they should be illegal pink teddy bears that kiss because of magnets in their noses, Philip eating one of the truffles from the box of gourmet chocolates he found, Philip going wide-eyed at the jewelry box and the tiny gold camera charm inside, Philip's pinking cheeks at the pack of boxers decorated with hearts, kiss lips, xs and os.

Then there's the best thing, and Philip somehow knew that, saved it for last. A real leather camera bag. Lukas should probably have waited and given it at Philip's birthday—it's not really a good Valentine—but he couldn't wait and at least it's more than a dumb pink bear.

Lukas feels flat. Stupid. He looks around the barn and for a second thinks he's going to cry. Then he looks back at Philip, maybe already crying, and his heart crushes in two. Worse than stupid then. No thought—not personal—nothing like a barn and all of this Philip's done and—

"I don't know what you'll do with the charm. You don't have to wear it. I just liked it and thought of you and… well. The other stuff is just for fun. The bag is good through, right? The lady at the store told me all about it and it has all these pockets for lenses and…" he trails off because Philip seems miserable.

"What?" he says to Philip's continued silence, so quiet he almost doesn't hear himself.

"I couldn't afford to get you anything. I thought this would be—nice? And there's dinner and I made us another playlist. I made another vid, too. Like a special Valentine's one to upload for your fans? But I don't have any cute bears and this bag is better than good." Philip's eyes shine in the flickering fake candles and his mouth wobbles. "You must have spent a fortune on me and I don't deser—need you to do that."

Lukas sighs out in huge, complete relief. He breathes back in with annoyance and affection and basically vaults the table, tugs Philip into his arms again, holds on so tight.

"You deserve anything, whatever and more. And I meant it that this is amazing. You're amazing." He laughs and it sounds thready, full of emotion, but he wasn't upset anymore and Philip was already lighting back up. "I was just sitting there thinking what a jerk I was only buying you things and not figuring out how to do something like all this."

"So then we make a good team."

"We make the best team." Lukas smiles against Philip's neck. "Pair," he whispers, "Everything." It feels huge and important, and Philip gets shivery and kisses him and his worries about the kissing bears and charm and chocolates being cliché or girly or anything fall away.

It's just them and that's just right. Is everything.

Philip tugs him over to the pile of blankets and it's a whole pallet set up for them, with pillows and a thick comforter as the pad.

"Sweet." Lukas grins. "This you smuggled out here. Right?"

"Mostly."

They laugh—kind of at themselves—and slide down into the blankets and make out. Making out gets them naked, and because they're out here, naked can be everything, and he's so glad they're out here. That genius amazing Philip thought of this. That Philip brought the kissing bears over with them so they don't get lonely.

Rutting together until they come, and then going at it again with Philip straddling Lukas and Lukas stroking them both, leads to a long nap. He wakes in an empty blanket burrito and untangles himself, pulls on jeans and a shirt, decides shoes are a good idea.

Philip is setting the table with things from the basket. Plates, sandwiches, chips, fruit, homemade double-chocolate cookies dropped in the shape of lumpy hearts, and a bottle of champagne he has no clue how Philip kept cold.

That he's certain Philip smuggled here.

"I had a little help," Philip says, seeing his look. "Gabe didn't think it'd be any harm for us to have one bottle."

"What did Helen think?"

"She told Gabe not to tell her, but like a joke. She doesn't care—we're having it right here and we're not going anywhere."

They weren't, and that felt good. They belonged right here. Safe and together. Lukas gets a premonition or something of a barn they convert into a house—maybe it's just him sitting here imagining it and that's enough—because it's a righteous idea.

Philip eases the cork out like he's a little afraid of it. Lukas would be too. It goes at last, makes a satisfyingly wet pop, and Philip fills two tall plastic cups. They toast, and then Lukas sits and lets Philip load his plate.

He thinks about the green pans. He'll have to tease dad he did better than that on his first try.

Dinner is good. The cookies are delicious. Lukas boasts how smart he is to have snagged such a talented man and Philip mocks him but turns rosy and pleased and Lukas thinks _score_. He eats too many and with the champagne, and some of Philip's truffles, his stomach aches a bit, but it's a good ache.

"What about the playlist?" he asks, bolder from the bubbles in his bloodstream and head and how great this day has gone.

"Oh yeah." Philip leans over the rail to dig in his bag next to the blankets. That's when Lukas notices the peek of black, pink and red above Philip's waistband.

"Are you wearing them?"

"Uh."

Philip stands in place holding his music player and Lukas walks over, drags them to the center of the barn where the floor is clear. Philip is wearing them—the boxers with the red and pink hearts—and that sends fire along Lukas' nerves.

He takes the music player and a set of earbuds. Philip grins crookedly, puts in the other set and hits play. It's natural as anything to draw Philip in, smooth his hands down Philip's ribs and waist and around to Philip's ass, and they slow dance to the first song.

It's low and guitar-folksy and mellow, and he's started to have appreciation for this stuff. Philip likes it, and he likes listening to it with Philip.

They slow dance through another two songs, and then Philip disentangles, gets the last of the champagne and cookies and gets into bed. Lukas grins and push-leaps over the low fence, lands next to Philip, and takes his cup.

"Smooth, right?"

"The smoothest." Philip laughs, settles into the lift of Lukas' beckoning arm, and they listen through the playlist and then watch and post the vid, finish the champagne.

Then Lukas rolls them over—wants Philip under him—always asks even if silently as he undoes Philip's pants. He leaves the boxers on, likes the hearts and silky fabric bunched around his chin as he goes down, Philip's fingers tangling in his hair, getting better every time with giving Philip head.

Giving everything he has. Everything they are.

( 15 )

He wakes and they're still in the barn. Philip lays there a long time, savoring their warm cocoon and Lukas' arms around him. Lukas' breath on his cheek.

Barns are good spaces. Amazing light, all those angles, atmospheric and dense with history. Sacred to him—safe.

Safe. Their touchstone, mantra, foundation. They've had some of their best moments near barns, in barns. The safest. That FBI lady is the only one who knows— they were going to take you away— I don't want a girlfriend. Lukas kissing and holding and being with him so freely, here. A whole constellation.

 _No one can find us, here_ , he remembers and remembers Lukas' smile.

He tallies yesterday among them. The brightest star yet.

Bright star has him imagining twinkling fairy lights and tables set up with huge centerpieces. White turkey feathers for only them to understand, and daisies, his mom's favorite flower. They would slow dance, like last night, under the fairy lights and in front of the people who matter. But maybe learn how before then so they don’t stumble around. Not alone but still absolutely safe.

Philip's heart tightens when his practical brain catches up to his fantasy.

Maybe too soon to plan their wedding reception. And he's kinda pissed off he so clearly sees it like that, in backwoods upstate, in a freaking barn. But he's not sure he'll ever want anything different—Lukas is the only thing he's allowed himself to want, outright want, ever—and he's always known his mind.

Why change it just because it's a barn instead of Tavern on the Green.

A horse grumbles and he chuckles, inhales the sweet, hay-scented air.

"What?" Lukas asks, barely audible, and yawns so deep Philip has to, too.

"I'm a city boy, like one of _the_ cities of the world, and my favorite place is a barn."

"Yeah but you're also smart." Lukas drags Philip down, back closer to him, and snuggles in. His hands push with purpose, fingers under the waistband of the hearts-and-kisses boxers, palming Philip's ass. "Not getting up yet are we?"

It's only a bit past dawn. Philip thinks the breaking light woke him, not sure, but he's definitely sleepy enough to fall right back to sleep. Especially here, tucked away from the world alongside Lukas, in a haven that understands them when the rest of the world was, wanted to be, cruel.

Philip kisses Lukas' forehead. "No. We're safe here."

"I know." Lukas sighs out a laugh and kisses Philip's neck.

He stays awake a bit longer, falling asleep in a slow decline, hand on Lukas' chest. The scar. Their heartbeats. When he dreams it's a far off place—no wedding but Lukas is there and they're going fast, laughing, safe—and in the distance there's a barn.


End file.
